The Worker and the Listener
by Violets and Lilies
Summary: Jesus is coming to the home of his good friends, for lunch and lessons. Hear about how things went from two sisters who were there. Based on Luke 10: 38-42.
1. Martha POV

My name is Martha. I am the worker. I feel that I am at my best when I serve my Lord with acts of service.

One day, the Lord was coming to the home that I share with my sister Mary and our brother Lazarus. He was going to spend the afternoon with us and share some lessons. My sister and I, and of course, our brother were incredibly excited and honored that our home was chosen for this meeting, but I wasn't about to let my excitement run away with me. We expected a good many people to come, and there were preparations to be made!

Everything was going smoothly, just the way I liked it, and our Lord arrived with his closest friends and a few curious hangers-on. I didn't mind. The more the merrier, when it comes to those that want to listen to Jesus, I always say. But, Mary and I stayed in the kitchen to finish getting the meal ready.

After a while, I realized that I'd left some fresh vegetables outside after I'd washed them off earlier. Well, I couldn't go get them now—not with the meat cooking in the fires!

"Mary," I called to her in a whisper, so as to not disturb Jesus' lesson—she could go get them, "Mary—"

Well, I thought she was here helping me! I did a quick survey of the room, and just managed to clamp my hand over my mouth in time to stop my gasp from being audible.

My sister, of all the places she could have been, was sitting there listening to Jesus' lesson!

My face turned red with embarrassment. What must all our guests be thinking? I was also confused. Didn't the Lord care that Mary had left me to do all the work alone?

I moved tentatively into the room. I didn't want to disturb the lesson, and I hoped I could get Mary's attention without a big fuss. Unfortunately, when I came in, the Lord stopped talking and looked at me—waiting to hear what I had to say. How embarrassing!

"Lord—" I began, then hesitated. Oh, why didn't Mary just stay in the kitchen where we belonged?

"Well," I began again, growing more determined to collect my wayward sibling, "Well, I was wondering why you don't care that Mary has left me to do all the work, while she only sits in here?"

Jesus smiled at me with great compassion in his eyes,

"Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted about many thing, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken from her."

I looked down at my hands. I didn't really understand—what could be more important than serving the Lord and helping those men that He had chosen to be His disciples, and yes, all those people who had come just to be close to him?

Then, I realized something; Jesus didn't say that my service wasn't good. He had said that my worry, my distraction, and yes, my preoccupation, with getting things in just the right place and at the right time, was what I had gotten wrong.

I recalled the time when five thousand men, many with their families in tow, had been fed by Jesus—on the spur of the moment—using a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish. No one had planned that out ahead of time—not even the mother of the little boy, who brought the bread and fish, could have foreseen how her little one's lunch would be used that day.

I learned something that day. I learned that I don't need to have every detail of my life planned out ahead of time, anymore than I need to worry about what kind of meal I'll serve to my quests. I learned that if I try to plan everything out, something might just happen that throws all my planning into disarray—sort of like my sister sitting at the feet of Jesus, listening to Him—instead of helping me, as I had planned. I also learned to trust that Jesus' plans are far better than my own, and I will be better at what I do best, if I am willing to sit down and listen to Him.

My name is Martha, and I'm still a worker, but I have learned that I am a better worker, if I take time to be a listener.


	2. Mary POV

My name is Mary. I am a listener. I love to sit at Jesus' feet and learn all the things that he has to teach me.

One day, the Lord was coming to the home that I share with my sister, Martha, and our brother, Lazarus. He was going to spend the afternoon with us and share some lessons. My sister and I and, of course, our brother were incredibly excited and honored that our home was chosen for this meeting, In fact, I think I walked around the whole morning with stars in my eyes!

I really did try to do my best at helping Martha in the kitchen, before everyone arrived, but when I looked up and saw Jesus sitting there, teaching all those men who had gathered around, I felt a tug at my heart and I knew, I just knew, I had to be a part of it!

I was so engrossed in the lessons Jesus was teaching that I didn't notice my sister was standing behind me, until Jesus stopped His lesson and looked at her to speak. I swiveled my head around to look up at her, and I could see immediately that she was very upset. I instinctively knew that it had something to do with me—we're sisters, after all, we know these things. I bowed my head, ashamed that I had done something to hurt my sister—and in front of Jesus and our guests too!

Martha asked Jesus why He didn't care that I wasn't helping her in the kitchen, and my face burned with shame. I remembered that Jesus had often said that we should think of others before we thought of ourselves—how selfish He must think I am, to leave her to do the work alone! They must all think I'm selfish to sit here while my sister slaves in the kitchen.

I looked up, into His face, thinking that was the best way to take His scolding, but I found nothing but compassion in His eyes as He looked at both of us.

He told my sister that she was wrong for wanting me to stop listening to Him, in order to help her. He told her that I had made the better choice.

I felt validated! My heart wanted to sing out with praises to Him!

For a moment, I felt like telling my sister that I'd been right, and she was wrong, but then I remember that His compassionate smile had been directed at both of us. He loved each of us, and it had nothing to do with what we might do, or say, or think. He simply wants to be a part of our lives.

My name is Mary, and I am still a listener, but I have learned that each person is giving a special gift from God, and it is not our place to say one is better than the other.


End file.
